


Lightning Rod

by archiveallie



Category: Bleach
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, Humor, Original Character-centric, Supernatural Elements, i love how u can add ur own tags, mostly oc centric at first, probably gonna ship my oc w a canon not sure yet!, set after ichigo regains his powers, tbh its an attempt at humor, the entire quincy arc? don't know her
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 15:38:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11831775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/archiveallie/pseuds/archiveallie
Summary: Naoko Kojima was just a girl who sold carvings at the market once a week and actively avoided companionship. She, you see, was meant to be the hero of this story, however, due to unfortunate circumstances, she is dead. Sort of.





	Lightning Rod

**Chapter One**

 

The noon sun hangs heavy in the sky, heat pouring down onto the Earth in waves. It was mid-July in the small unknown town, crowds of merchants and stalls with their buyers flooding the streets, giving the sun more cause to burn the meandering humans. The thin cloth covering the stalls gives shade of course, but the heat of the rays still manage to make the merchants sweat as much as their customers.

 

One stall in particular had a very sweaty individual. The cloth covering the booth was exceptionally thin with holes most likely chewed through by moths littering the dull red cloth. On the table of the stall were very intricately done wood carvings of various woodland creatures. The creator of these pieces of art, happens to be a dark brown haired girl seated on a worn out stool, sweat not only dripping down the sides of her face but down her back, her legs, and her arms.

 

She was what one would call, _a human waterfall._

 

It was rather irritating, the way that the biggest hole in her stall cover happened to be under the direct light of the sun and directly above her head. Rather irritating indeed as the scowl on her face merely deepened as yet another customer deemed her work beautiful but walked away anyway. She blamed the heat, no one really wanted to be out in the sun that day. And yet it seemed as if _everyone and their dog_ were out on this unpleasant day. It was the only day of the week the market was open and everyone shared her thoughts of the general question _why_ since today happened to be one of the hottest days of the year so far.

 

She’s not bragging when she says that her work is the best work in the market not counting the Kudo twins’ gin stall (they certainly got the most customers even when the market wasn’t in session). Despite that little fact, she hardly ever got anyone buy her carvings. Many liked them, they thought they were cute, but no one ever bought them. The only one person who bought the little pieces of art was the last person she ever wants to sell anything to.

 

“Ah, Naoko! Looks like you’ve added a couple new animals to your collection!” _Speak of the Devil._

 

Kiyoshi Sasaki was the town’s most handsome boy, despite how plain he actually looked with his straight black hair that fell limp on his shoulders and black eyes. His thin frame somehow appeased to the female population for some reason and the arrogant way he walked made them all swoon. Naoko just thought of him as an annoying pest who was never going to get her love and affection no matter how hard he tried to woo her.

 

Or in this case, buy unnecessary amounts of her carvings.

 

An idiotic and over stretched smile was carved onto his features as he crossed his arms looking upon the sitting girl. Naoko simply stared him in the eye dead on, hoping to unnerve him at least slightly. But his “good looks” were the only admirable part of him, considering how dimwitted he was.

 

“I see you added a new bear carving--- oh! Is that a _tsubaki_ carving?” He leaned in interest over the table, not hearing the poor girl’s sigh of relief now that his attention had been somewhat averted. “I didn’t realise you were doing flowers now.”

 

“I was trying something different,” came the dry reply as Naoko decided it was time to go back to fanning herself with her journal. “I was going to paint it yellow, but I decided to keep it plain so anyone could interpret the meaning.”

 

She immediately regretted the words leaving her mouth when Kiyoshi looked up with a flirtatious smirk on his lips. “Yellow, huh?”

 

She internally groaned, mentally shaking her fist skywards as she cursed her dear grandmother for teaching the boys of the town the meanings behind certain flowers. A yellow _tsubaki_ symbolizes longing, something Kiyoshi loved to hear about people saying about him.

 

How unfair for him to not know that the only thing Naoko longs for from him was him to never bother her again.

 

Russet eyes blinked slowly at the boy, remaining blank despite her inner raging. “Yes, since they are the most common flower in this area. What other color would I do?” She tried to keep it as vague as she could, hoping she seemed oblivious to the meaning behind the color.

 

Lo and behold the smirk on Kiyoshi’s face only got wider. “Oh, I don’t know,” he tried to make his voice drop an octave (for whatever reason, she has no clue), but it was unfortunate that Mother Nature has yet to provide him with a man’s voice, “maybe _red._ ”

 

Naoko managed to hide the shudder that went up her spine. Red, how silly of her. The color of _love_. She’d puke right now if she could but her grandmother did manage to cram some manners into her.

 

“Red isn’t very common here. I see absolutely no point in that.” _Just like how she sees absolutely no point in this conversation._

 

The boy's temple pulses as his smirk strains into a fake one, a snap of annoyance flickering in his eyes. "I see."

 

An awkward silence filled the air (awkward for him not for her, she's quite glad about the sudden silence) and for a couple minutes the two stare at each other.

 

Kiyoshi brought his fist to his mouth, coughing into it, thus ending the silence that Naoko was enjoying. A haughty look set on his features, he looked down on the girl across the table. _That's not how you bring a girl to love you_ , she thought sarcastically as she levelly gazed back at him.

 

"Naoko Kojima," he said forcefully, an air of confidence surrounding him almost like armor, "I am formally asking you if you would allow me to court you. I believe us to be a perfect match and you to be a perfect bride for me." He smiled down on her, as if fully expecting her answer to be swooning into his arms and saying yes repeatedly, for it was what she had always dreamed of.

 

" _I refuse_."

 

The poor thing almost fell over due to the shock of the bluntness of her refusal. He openly gaped at her, eyes bulging out of his head as if what she said was a _crime_ against something. "W-why! Why would you refuse such an offer!" He sputtered out, his face having turned red with either embarrassment or anger.

 

Naoko secretly wished that it was both.

 

Her facial expression remained passive as she tucked a strand of her brown hair behind her ear, the other strands tied in a tight ponytail at the back of her head. While her face was practically neutral, her voice was filled with an icy tone, "Why would I say yes? I hardly know you, Sasaki, and you only speak to me when the market is open. Not to mention the usual topic of our discussions are usually about you or your life. Nothing about you truly interests me. I would actually like a husband who cherishes me instead of one just merely thinking me to be a perfect bride."

 

Ouch. She could have said it a tad bit more nicely than that as she watched his face crumble into an emotion she usually sees on his face: petulant anger.

 

But it seemed as though her words had caused him to lose all functions of properly speaking like a normal human in society, as he made an incoherent sound of indignation in the back of his throat. He turned on his heel (something Naoko is only familiar seeing _girls_ do when angry) and stomped away, rudely bumping into everyone in his way.

 

To say her reaction to his tantrum was somewhat dull would be an understatement, seeing as all the girl did was blink in slight surprise before shrugging and taking a sip from her tea.

 

Anyone who watched the spectacle sweat dropped at the sight before going back to their own business.

 

It was decided by Naoko a couple minutes later, that it would be best to just close down shop for the rest of the day. No one else had stopped by, just passing by and only glancing once at her creations.

 

Yeah, she decided it would be best before she threw her own temper tantrum.

 

She hopped off the stool, landing lightly on her feet and stretching her arms above her head as she popped the joints in her shoulders and back. Standing at the small height she was, it was almost surprising to other merchants that such cold words could come out of one so small.

 

But they have certainly seen her do worse, so it wasn't nearly as shocking to them compared to a stranger.

 

Naoko grabs her carvings, shoving them in her leather bag after placing her journal at the bottom. The stall itself didn't need to be packed, someone else could simply come and take it after she left so she merely cleaned it up a bit for the next merchant.

 

She heaved her bag onto her shoulder, grunting slightly at the weight but she moved around the table to walk amongst the other sweaty people. A sliver of disgust slinked its way up her back when her hand brushed against another person's slimy arm.

 

_Think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts_ , the mantra being grumbled in the back of her mind.

 

She had miraculously managed to get out of the crowd, making her way to the path that led to her small hut that her grandmother left behind for her after she passed away. Naoko prefers to sleep on the mat on the floor instead of the cot, she'd rather not sleep on the same bed her dear, sweet baachan literally took her last breath on. Dealing with the back pains from the mat was better than that.

 

The path was narrow, not to mention a long trek to get to her small hut. It was one of the furthest buildings from the town, the other one being the small temple which was an even longer walk. Naoko never understood why her grandmother had the hut built so far away from the town and instead being close to the forest. It was almost like having a big sign over the roof saying "Yes, I am completely vulnerable and _no one_ will hear me scream from here if you attack me". It was almost as if her grandmother wanted to be attacked.

 

The trek was hot and humid, to her own aggravation. She wasn't expecting it to make her sweat more than the crowded market but here she was; in all her sweaty glory. The dull green yukata she had on had the sleeves rolled all the way up to her mid-bicep and if one were to walk behind her, they could no doubt see the sweat seeping through the fabric.

 

Maybe if she fell over and had some sort of injury due to the heat, she'd be able to go unconscious until the glorious chill of nightfall.

 

Ah, if only she were that _lucky_.

 

The view of the dingy little hut presented itself to her eyes in all of its worn down glory. The roof was in shambles and weeds were climbing the crumbling sides with a passion, surrounding the window with only one working shutter. In other words: it was a piece of shit. But unfortunately it was _her_ piece of shit, so she deemed it liveable.

 

Her trudge up to the front door was more or less reluctant, she stared in distaste as the door handle left a brown stain on the palm of her hand. _...I should probably start cleaning this pigsty for once_ , the thought lingered into her mind before she shook her head and entered the dark and damp hut.

 

A taste of wet and uncleaned dishes made its way into her nose and mouth, causing her button nose to wrinkle in slight disgust; mostly at herself for letting this place get so bad. Naoko’s eyes roamed the inside, taking note that everything was where she left it. Her bed was still pushed into the farthest right corner of the room, the thin fabrics she used for blankets and warmth strewn across haphazardly from her half asleep preparation in the morning. A pile of dirty dishes and pans had taken refuge in her “sink,” causing the whole room to smell like a small animal had died. Her lack of clothes were littered across the floor (she thanked all the gods that existed that her collection of clothes was a tiny one). A sliver of light seemingly burned a hole in the middle of her small dinner table.

 

Or it could have been _her_ fault the other night that it’s there but it’s not something she’s proud of.

 

With an exhausted sigh, Naoko placed her bag on the table roughly without any care before chucking herself onto her worn bed. The loud thud that echoed throughout the room was followed by a groan of pain as her head did manage to collide with the wall.

 

Naoko laid there for a while, lidded russet eyes staring a deep hole into the disintegrating ceiling. Her mind trailed off to nowhere and a darkness clouded her vision, causing her to drift off to a light sleep.

* * *

 

It was the heavy smell of smoke that caused her eyes to snap open. Such a foreign smell to her nose except when she attempts to cook for herself, she let herself raise her head with a look of confusion and a very subtle panic.

 

_Where is it coming from? What’s going on?_

 

Her movements were precise and careful, her feet made no sound when she set them onto the wooden floor. She was vaguely aware that the sun was setting and despite the warm glow of the sun that was drifting away, another glow had taken up the width of her view. Her view of the town. She knew this glow, it’s the same glow that her fireplace gives off in the middle of a freezing winter night, the glow of a raging _fire_. Her feet unconsciously take her away from the open window, somehow knowing nothing good would come from this.

 

Nothing good ever came from raiders. Or so say the stories of any survivors who make it out alive from a raid.

 

Naoko was quick to realize that they would soon make their way to her hut, they always find every home no matter how far hers is. An escape to the woods would be pointless, she decided, she’s never been too deep into the heart of the forest so she’d most likely end up dying out there.

 

_Dying_. She could die this night. That whole realization had her frozen in her spot in the middle of the hut, a heavy and uncomfortable feeling settling on her stomach as her spine tensed and her hands clenched tightly into fists. The most recent experience she had with death was the passing of her grandmother (who somehow managed to live to the ripe age of ninety-one) and that was a year ago. She’d always called herself old, having recently turned twenty, but now she knew. She knew she wasn’t ready to face death, she’d rather croak of old age than being murdered in her own home.

 

_She refuses._

 

Alas, fate seemed to have it out for her because just as her body remembered how to move, her ears picked up a strange sound drifting up the hill to her hut. Once again her body froze, this time in anticipation, her ears straining to pick up on the sudden sound. The silence in the hut was almost deafening to her as she struggled to make out the noise before it started to get clearer and clearer to her. They were voices and they kept getting _closer_.

 

Maybe it’s time to take back those last statements and just welcome death with open arms.

 

The voices, gruff and sharp, carried even closer and her body reacted by itself. As quietly as she could she sped over to her cooking area, grabbing the first thing she registered capable of being used as a weapon; a dulled knife. _It’ll do_ , she thought dryly as her eyes roamed the room, frantically searching for the next thing she should do. The girl’s eyes gazed past the storage closet near the head of her bed and for some reason, she deemed it worthy of hiding in.

 

(Somewhere in the back of the panicked mind of Naoko, her own conscious was banging its head against a wall, screaming that making a run for it would lead to a more likely survival rate.)

 

When she was around the age of fifteen, Naoko embarrassed herself in front of the whole town after losing a bet with her grandmother; she had to walk around the town dressed up as the town cat (she nicknamed it The Demon; it was fairly accurate). There was nothing that she regretted more than losing that bet.

 

Except this moment. She lost her footing when she went to run to the closet, managing to trip on the clothes littered across the floor. She remained quiet when it came to vocal surprise, but she couldn’t contain the loud thump when she hit the floor nor could she silence the pained grunt as her chin slammed against the hardwood, causing her to bite down on her tongue. She could taste the metallic tang of blood flowing through her mouth.

 

She is _so_ dead.

 

The shushing of the men walking up the path to the hut caused Naoko to slip into survival mode; she jumped to her feet and ran to the closet, ignoring the pain pulsing through her body from falling. It’s just her luck to run right into the closet door and she curses under her breath, almost slamming the door open in desperation. She was quick to get in, closing the door behind her and she breathed in through her nose as silently as she could. The loud footsteps of the raiders had made it to her front door and she couldn’t risk getting caught. The wait was almost physically painful for her, with her back pressed against the shaky shelves and her eyes trained on the darkness of the door. A loud knock at her door and she squeezed her eyes shut, mentally wishing that her crazed grandmother were here to scare off the men. She had no doubt the insane woman to could do it, too.

 

Her breath was coming out in silent, sharp intakes and exhales as she heard the loud crash of her flimsy door being kicked in. Her grip on the knife tightened as she heard the heavy steps of raiders walking through her home and rustling of them taking whatever they wanted. She heard them laugh at her carvings, they complained about the grotesque smell of the dirty dishes, and they wondered aloud on _where their dear host is_. She bit hard onto her lower lip to stop herself from making any unnecessary noise. Her brows furrowed and her eyes squeezed tighter to stop herself from shedding any kind of tear. Naoko will never know the mistake within in her next action until it hits her; she bumped her head against a shelf, causing it to shift without her complete knowledge.

 

Another thing not known to her was that that shelf held a box filled with all the rocks that her grandmother had collected before passing. The shelf being shifted caused the box to tilt from its dangerous angle and tip down, plummeting down to its own fated freedom from the prison the shelf gave to it. Naoko heard the shifting of the box and she glanced up, only to see her end.

 

It would be tragic to say the least, being killed in one’s own home. But it's tragically hilarious that the thing that kills you happens to be something a loved one left you. The box had slammed onto the poor girl's face, causing her knees to buckle from the force and weight of the rock-filled box. Gravity had pulled her down and had her face hit the knob on the door, her neck snapping with a crack. Imagine the shock from the raiders when they discovered that they didn't have to kill the inhabitant of this humble hut, she had done the job just fine.

 

The girl, Naoko Kojima, was remembered by the survivors as the dark haired girl who had a small frame and stood tall, judging others with her russet eyes and sold adorable carvings in the market. It was rumored Kiyoshi mourned for a day for her before moving onto another girl the very next morning. Naoko was remembered as the granddaughter of the crazy old woman who lived on the hill, collecting rocks and throwing the ugly ones at people.

 

She, you see, was meant to be the hero of this story, however, due to unfortunate circumstances, she is dead.

 

Except, _not really_.

**Author's Note:**

> hey! so this is my very first time using this site for my own writing so im not sure if everything i've done is done. . ..correctly haha
> 
> this is going to be an original character centric fanfic (as of rn) as i'm just trying to flesh out naoko's character. so the first couple chapters are basically going to be set around her. but if u hadn't read all the tags yet, the main plot to this fic will be set AFTER ichigo gains his powers back (like the final arc of the anime, not the manga). so anything regarding the quincy war? nah i don't fuck w that srry !
> 
> so yeah a review/comment would always be appraciated! thanks for reading!
> 
> p.s. i don't have a technique for updating. it happens when it happens haha


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